Two horses could be seen through the door. The men were bringing them up to their leader. "We should take our time—is no hurry." He took his big sombrero from the peg where he had put it long ago, and turned to Gilbert. "Well, I go now. Adios, my frand."
"Wait a minute," the other tried to detain him. "You've killed him. You wouldn't go and leave things this way, would you?"
"As I say, no trouble for me," Lopez boyishly said, and smiled, shrugging his broad shoulders.
Gilbert was astonished. "Yes; but how about me?" he wanted to know, "You do not think of that."
The bandit turned, amazed. "What ze matter? Are you not satisfied? You all what you say: zit—zot—zet!" He pinched his fingers, and made a funny little noise.
"I can't think," said Gilbert, sitting down, one hand on his forehead. "It's all so strange, so confusing to me. The world seems to be rocking beneath my feet. What does it all mean—this life we live for so brief a time? What does anything mean?"
Lopez came over to him and put his hand on his shoulder affectionately. "You Americanos so queer," he said, "For why you waste time thinking? Are you not rich? 'Ave you not ze beautiful lady to love like 'ell yourself personal?"
Gilbert jumped up. He thought he would go mad if this sort of thing kept up. "Good God, man!" he cried. "After what you've done, you can talk like that?"
"What have I done?" inquired the bandit, blandly. "Well, what I done?"
Gilbert looked at him in amazement. "You killed him! That's all."